


In which Elton John may or may not have raccoons living in his ceiling tiles

by canardroublard



Series: Fictober 2018 [12]
Category: The Good Place (TV)
Genre: Attempt 218, Elton John probably doesn't have raccoons living in his ceiling tiles, F/F, but we don't know that for certain, confused bi Eleanor, oblivious Tahani
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 16:21:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16308596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canardroublard/pseuds/canardroublard
Summary: Eleanor wastryingto manage the whole "soulmate" thing. But Michael had made it clear that soulmates could be platonic or romantic, but vanished before Eleanor could ask him which option she was stuck with. Leaving her to live with this gorgeous giraffe-lady who smelled amazing but never seemed to know how to react to her flirting.The whole thing felt like torture.





	In which Elton John may or may not have raccoons living in his ceiling tiles

"Who could do this?"

Eleanor froze at the dismayed voice of Tahani. Her soulmate. A concept which Eleanor had become markedly more enthusiastic towards after seeing that tall drink of water. Then markedly _less_ enthusiastic after having to coexist for weeks in this tiny, clown-ridden hell-house with one very pretentious, self-aggrandizing tall drink of water. So Eleanor was back at neutral on the soulmate thing, she mused as she lay starfish-style on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

"Eleanor, have you seen the cupcakes? I'm having people over and..." Tahani began as her footsteps clacked closer, until she was standing over Eleanor.

"Uh..." Eleanor sat up, cupcake crumbs escaping her mouth in a small puff. "No."

"Oh my _God_ ," Tahani fumed, pacing on those long, smooth, perfect legs which were now regular guests in Eleanor's dreams. "Of course. Of course you bloody ruin my plans. Again!"

"How was I supposed to know you were saving them?" Eleanor shot back. "Cupcakes are one of those...taking foods! If you just leave a bunch lying around with no note, they're fair game. It's like the office fridge! If no one is standing there, amazing, free food! And if people get mad, you blame it on the raccoons that live in the ceiling tiles."

"I wouldn't know," Tahani sniffed, "I've never been in an office. Nor seen a raccoon. Unless, does it count if it's Elton John's—?"

"Yeah, no. And just ask Janet for more cupcakes. What's the big deal?"

Sighing, Tahani flopped onto the bed, sprawling on her back, undignified and very un-Tahani. Eleanor, still sitting, now had a _great_ view of her cleavage. It was great cleavage.

"It's not just that," Tahani said morosely. "It's just this dreadful little clown house isn't made for entertaining at _all_ and I keep bumping my head on things because everything's so short, and this whole living situation just feels like _torture_."

Eleanor shuffled closer, consolingly patting Tahani's arm. God, she smelled amazing. "Look, babe, you'll figure something out. You're, like, an entertaining goddess. Like, if there was a smackdown between you and Martha Stewart, you'd birch-slap her straight to hell."

Tahani smiled, a bit weakly, but trying. "You are a confusing, curious little woman, Eleanor. But thank you. You're a good friend. Maybe even my _best_ friend, though Charlize might be upset at the competition."

Internally, Eleanor sighed. Tahani was so forkable. And sometimes there were moments when Eleanor almost thought Tahani was _looking_ at her. Like Eleanor caught herself looking at Tahani. But then Tahani would say something so _straight_ and very clearly platonic, leaving Eleanor confused, depressed and horny. Maybe Tahani was a hopeless straight, but still, she could at least pretend to be interested. Right? Then again, maybe the false hope would be even worse. Either way, the whole situation was torture.

Torture.

Just like Tahani said.

Wait...

"Holy forking shirt, _this_ is the Bad Place!"

"Aw, nuts!" muttered a voice that sounded like Michael's, right before everything went white.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Fictober 2018, for the prompt "Who could do this?"
> 
> And see also the follow-up/companion piece, [In which an Elton John song is egregiously misquoted but the meaning is still mostly received](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16310735).


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